Many and curious were the eyes turned towards “Farmer Beacham’s” pew that holiday in early June, when the sun shone out and nature’s garb was fresh, and when it would almost seem that, out of compliment to the bride, each daughter of Eve there present had bedecked herself in her Sunday’s best. With her head bent down and half hidden by the high oaken walls of the old-fashioned pew, Honor endeavoured, and not wholly without success, to remember that the “place in which she stood was holy ground.” She never once raised her blue eyes from the bran-new red-morocco Prayer-book--gilt-edged, and which was one of John’s earliest offerings to his betrothed--which she held in her hand. A shy consciousness that she was the observed of all observers in that crowded village church, together with the mortifying reflection which, _malgré elle_, would intrude itself, that she was not “fit to be seen,” brought pretty waves of colour to the lowered girlish face. From his place in the gallery, the most conspicuous one in the big, well-cushioned, luxurious family pew, there was one who throughout the service continued furtively to gaze upon the features which to his eyes were so surpassing fair. Though, for his age, he had seen a good deal of the world, Arthur Vavasour was still in every way too young to set the opinion of that world at absolute defiance; so he chose the opportunity when he and the rest of the congregation were on their knees, repeating with wearisome monotony that they were all “miserable sinners,” to gaze his fill at the farmer’s lovely bride. In the house of God, under the shelter of his folded arms, in the humble posture of a penitent, he was already breaking in his heart the one of the commandments on which most strenuously depends “our neighbour’s” peace, his honour and well-being! Truly it was well for Cecil Vavasour that his sleep was sound in the churchyard vault that day, and that to him it was not given to look within the erring heart of his eldest born! That son, who in his beautiful childhood had been so very near his father’s heart, stood terribly in need that Sabbath-day, proud and handsome and prosperous though he seemed, of the “effectual fervent prayer” which in the sight of Heaven “availeth much.” CHAPTER XIV. MR. DUBERLY TAKES THE ALARM.